


Come Follow Me

by rahcorvus



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: FFxivWrite2020, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 7,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26240293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rahcorvus/pseuds/rahcorvus
Summary: Deep inside, we're nothing more than scions and sinners.[A series of responses written for the prompts of FFXIV Write 2020.  Will include spoilers up through Shadowbringers 5.3.  Tags will be updated as necessary.]
Kudos: 5
Collections: #FFxivWrite2020 Final Fantasy 30 Day Writing Challenge





	1. Day 1: Crux

“We’ve been over this, Zinnia,” the Roegadyn insisted with a shake of his head. Biggs III was perhaps more serious in demeanor than his grandfather, but whether that was his natural tendency or just the effects of living in a world of desperation it could not be said.

The Miqo’te woman before him balled her hands into fists, though she kept them at her side. She was small, her height still not reaching five fulms even with her thick blue pigtails pulled high on the back of her head.

“I know, Biggs, but it’s like you’ve said yourself -- we don’t know what could or would happen if G’raha succeeded.”

“We just need to wait and see if there are any changes here. We can’t have everyone rushing off risking their necks over hypotheses.”

“So it was fine to let  _ him _ go, but not any of the rest of us?”

“You know G’raha’s situation is different from the rest of ours.”

“What, because of his Allagan Eyes? Because of the Tower?” She very nearly growled at that, baring her Keeper fangs. “He’s still one of us! Don’t you dare tell me you always intended to leave him to his fate.”

Biggs flinched. He may have had more than two fulms on her, but she was still his senior, and he knew more than well enough that her stubborn streak was fierce enough to topple eikons with a glare.

“That’s not what I meant…” he mumbled, casting his gaze to the floor. “I know he’s your best mate, Zinnia, but the crux of the matter is that we can’t risk anyone else not coming back.”

Her lip curled and she pulled her goggles down over her eyes. Biggs knew why she did it, but he wasn’t about to say anything regarding it; if she wanted to mask her tears, it was not his place to try to stop her.

“Understood…” she murmured, forcing herself to look up at the Roegadyn from behind the green glow of her goggles. “I know you’re only trying to protect us.”

Biggs nodded, quietly letting out a sigh of relief. He could bear Zinnia being upset with him as long as it meant she was safe. Despite all the research and effort they had put into constructing the Tycoon, part of him was glad that it had been sent hurtling back through time and space along with the Crystal Tower, if only because it meant Zinnia couldn’t do anything reckless with it.

Or at least, that’s what he thought…


	2. Day 2: Sway

The barest amount of movement provided by the unhappy swishing of the young Miqo’te’s tail was more than Zazel needed to find her.

Not yet five summers old, Zinnia was plenty small enough to squeeze herself beneath the benches in her grandpapa’s workshop. She sniffled to herself, hugging her bony knees to her chest.

“Zin?” Zazel said softly, following her name with a clearing of his throat. The green-haired Miqofell didn’t want to startle her, not when she was already suffering.

She whipped her head around to look at him, her pupils wide and the whites of her eyes bloodshot with her own tears.

“Uncle Zazzy?” she whimpered, her blue-furred ears turning down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I promise, I just…”

“Shh, shh…” he soothed somewhat awkwardly, doing his best to keep the usual gruffness out of his voice. He knelt down beside the bench slowly, the metal of his lower legs clanging a little on the flooring. He knew better than to wince right now. “You’re not in trouble, Zin. I just got worried when you bolted off like that.”

“But… the bird…” She sobbed a little at that, but she didn’t pull away from the hand Zazel placed on her shoulder. “I don’t know what I was doing… Why am I so hungry?” Her last question came out more like a plea than anything else.

“It’s…” Zazel sighed. “It’s something we inherited from the old man. But you’re not alone, alright? I know what it feels like, to be hungry like that.”

“Because of the Void?” she asked, her tiny voice still wavering. “Mom said it might happen, but I was scared… It feels bad.”

“It does. But I’m not going to tell you to try to fight it, or that you’ve messed up.” He pulled a bottle from the satchel at his hip and held it up for her to see. “I know your mom gives you ether juice already, but I’m thinking you might need to try some with a higher aetheric potency.” Zinnia squinted at him, the spark in her green eyes making it clear that curiosity was finally overtaking her discomfort. “You don’t have to worry about whether it’s safe or not; I’ve been drinking this variety since I was your age too.”

Zinnia sniffed a little. If she was anything like her uncle -- which he knew she was -- then she wouldn’t need the cap off to sense the pure aether condensed in the bottle.

“I can try some, then?” she asked. Zazel nodded.

“Let’s go to the kitchen, though. Then I can pour some for you in a cup with some ice.”

Her tiny tail swished another time before she crawled out from beneath the bench. Zazel pushed himself back to his feet with a quiet grunt before putting the bottle back in his satchel. He offered his niece his hand for her to hold, but she hesitated before taking it.

“You’re sure it’s okay? About the bird?” She was a worrier, that was for sure.

“We can bury it, if you would like.”

Zinnia nodded before grabbing his hand, clinging to his side like an affectionate puppy as he led her to the kitchen. Zazel smiled weakly down at her, knowing that the Void’s sway over the girl would only be the beginning of her heartache.


	3. Day 3: Muster

Zinnia pulled her tabard on over her undershirt, fastening the golden buckles with care. Totoloc Tech had always been more loose with its rules regarding uniforms, but she still couldn’t help but feel pride when she donned the body piece. It was a deep shade of blue, darker than the blue of the Ironworks, and emblazoned with the company’s crest: a multicolored feather, reminiscent of those of the Ehcatl Ixal, overlapped with a carpenter’s saw and claw hammer.

She tied her thick blue hair into her signature pigtails, pulled high on the back of her head. Gazing into the mirror before her, she admired the crest on her tabard for a moment. She had spent much of her childhood at play in her grandpapa’s workshop, eagerly absorbing every last bit of engineering wisdom the Miqo’te man had to share. Even when he had passed, she found herself drawn back to the workshop. She had difficulty expressing it, but when she set to work chasing the dreams he had already carved into their family’s values, she felt close to him again. Like he was still there, encouraging her to build her own dreams with her own two hands.

“For a more accessible tomorrow!” she announced to the mirror, placing her goggles on her forehead with a flourish. She needed a bit of Seoc’s confidence today; after all, the time had come for her to formally inherit Totoloc Tech.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to exit the living quarters and head upstairs. Shinken awaited her there, his tall form towering over her even with him leaning against the wall.

“Zinnia!” The Raen man beamed, giving her a gentle pat on the head before sweeping her into a hug. Shinken originally hailed from Doma, but had elected to stay in Eorzea to assist Seoc with his research -- and to make sure the Miqo’te’s poor money management didn’t run the company into the ground. He had become part of the family in all but name long before Zinnia was even born; all things considered, he had kept Totoloc Tech more than safe while they all waited for Zinnia to come of age to inherit the company.

Zinnia hugged him back as best as she could, glad that the Au Ra’s hips were narrow enough for her to fit her arms around his lower torso.

“You excited?” Shinken asked, resting his large hands on her shoulders even as he released her from the hug.

“And nervous,” she admitted, giving him a smile back. She knew much of the coming day was to be more of a celebration than any sort of event bogged down in formalities, but it still felt like she was stepping into a new phase of her life. A new world.

“Don’t worry, Zin. I’ve got your back. We all do.” Shinken withdrew his hands from her shoulders and gave her a wink. “We all know you more than pass muster.”


	4. Day 4: Clinch

Zinnia coughed when she awoke, her head spinning under the influence of air thick and crackling with aether. Her sensitivity to the flow of it only served to disorient her further.

After a few minutes, she managed to push herself to an upright sitting position. The earth around her appeared as pulsating crystal, and as she forced herself to her senses she ended up snapping her head up to look at the horizon.

The Crystal Tower pierced the heavens there, cutting through the dense fog of Mor Dhona.

“I… I made it,” she murmured to herself, her voice still rasping from her coughing fit. Biggs had told her not to so much as think of trying to hurl herself back in time, and she did feel the guilt of it gnawing at the back of her mind, but the thrill of reaching such uncharted territory gave her enough energy to avoid dwelling on it, if only for the moment.

She pushed herself to her feet slowly, patting herself down carefully as she did her best not to wobble. When she was satisfied that she was, in fact, intact, she fumbled for the satchel at her hip, digging through it for a moment before withdrawing a small metallic device with several buttons and a tiny bulb that glowed a fuzzy sort of red when she pressed down on the first button.

“Data log 2015. Time: unverified, but presumed to be between the Seventh and Eighth Umbral Calamities.” She held the device close to her face as her green eyes flitted from side to side. “Location: Mor Dhona, just beyond the gate of the Crystal Tower. Aetheric balance shifted heavily toward lightning, but seemingly unaffected by instances of Black Rose contamination. Will commence time investigation shortly.”

She pressed the first button again, then held down a second before pressing a third. A somewhat tinny recording of her own voice played the message back to her and she grinned.

“Excellent.”

She placed the device back into her satchel and took a few tentative steps down the pathway that wound away from the gate. She knew Saint Coinach’s Find was not far, and Revenant’s Toll was just beyond that. All she had to do was make it there; then she could sort out exactly  _ when _ she was and set up a base of operations.

She took the path slowly, knowing that to overexert herself now would mean abandoning any potential fruits of her work -- of  _ their _ work.

The campsite at Saint Coinach’s Find came into view soon enough, and Zinnia found herself wondering if it would be feasible to hire a chocobo porter back to Revenant’s Toll. She was tired, more so than she originally realized.

She was yanked from thoughts of her own exhaustion by the sound of nearby voices -- voices that she recognized. She startled, only managing to keep her footing by leaning against a stack of crates.

“Surely that’s not all there is to Sharlayan!” came the first, and Zinnia’s ears swiveled to catch the sweet sound of it. She didn’t have to turn her head and look to know that it was Seoc who had spoken.

“You’d be surprised by how bland such a place can be,” the second voice responded with a sigh. This voice was deeper, yet equally melodic, and it was one she had heard more recently than her grandpapa’s. G’raha yelped, presumably having been poked by the other Miqo’te man. “Hey!”

Tears welled up in Zinnia’s eyes, though she couldn’t help but remain frozen where she stood. Her longing to see both of them clinched with her fears -- both that they would not recognize her, and that because of the uncharted territory she was treading by toying with time, something strange or horrible could happen to them all.

The two men laughed as they romped past, oblivious to her presence as they passed by the opposite side of the crates. She felt her heart seize in her chest, fit to burst with emotions that she simply could not deal with at that moment.

She pulled her goggles down over her eyes and forced herself to take several deep breaths. As long as they were both alive and well in this instant, that was more than she could have asked for.

She listened to the two of them chatter as they crossed the camp away from her, and when she was certain that they would not see her leave she strode across to the chocobo porter and exchanged the necessary gil to get her to Revenant’s Toll.

Finally astride the chocobo, she pulled her recording device from her satchel once more and spoke into it as she was carried back to the other settlement.

“Data log 2016. Time verified to be within the Seventh Astral Era. Seoc Totoloc’s status: alive. G’raha Tia’s status: alive. As of now, the Crystal Tower has yet to be resealed. Further details to be added later.”


	5. Day 5: Matter of Fact

The Void sang to her, practically dancing its claws over her skin. The ever-present thrumming of the tainted, empty aether behind her eyes made her head ache, and it was only exacerbated by the heaviness in her limbs. The old man’s juice hadn’t been enough.

_ Why wasn’t it enough? _

The thought hovered lazily in her mind, refusing to properly take flight. Were she more herself, her brain would have immediately begun calculating the changes in the atmosphere’s aetheric density and the toll it took on her condition.

Everything was made up of aether. She  _ was _ her own aether, or at least her body was the growing black hole of it. She felt her fingers twitch and wished that she had the strength to still them of her own accord.

She was so tired.

She knew the color of her own aether, of everything and everyone that had ever been around her long enough for her body to register them as food.  _ That _ was why she felt so ill, why she couldn’t stop her head from spinning. She was hungry.

The Void ran thin red tendrils through her aether, twisting the deep blue into a sickly shade of violet. It bruised her, as it always did, and she felt for a moment as though it would be best to let it run wild, rather than expend the energy required to rein it in.

“No,” she snarled, clutching her hands over her chest. “No!”

Geist had long since slain the voidsent which possessed him. It should have been enough to at least staunch the bleeding of her aether.

_ It should have been enough. _

“Tut-tut,” emerged a voice from the dark mists within her mind. Zinnia’s entire body tensed in response; perhaps her natural instincts could help her to override the more unnatural ones.

“Wh-who..?” she managed to choke out.

“There’s no need to struggle so wildly, my child. Open your heart to me, and the pain will cease.”

“Liar…” Zinnia muttered. She knew this voice, these thoughts, even if their origins remained obscured. She knew her hunger could not be sated, not permanently; to give it an ilm was to give it a malm. A harmless love-bite could quickly turn to a bloodbath, and she would not eat her family. She would not eat her friends, however warm and alluring their aether felt.

“Haven’t we told you not to fight it?” the voice simpered. “Give in, just for a moment. It will feel better in the end.”

“No!” she howled, her distress giving her enough adrenaline to kick out her legs and scramble backwards. The darkness hissed around her.

“Foolish child. You can’t  _ invent _ your way out of this one.”

Zinnia paused, catching her breath.  _ This _ was how she’d break free -- knowing that the Void was wrong. She smiled a mad sort of smile, tilting her head back to gaze up at a sky that had finally begun to come back into focus.

“Oh, but didn’t you know?” Her intonation was slow and matter-of-fact. “I can invent my way out of  _ anything.” _


	6. Day 6: Stars (Extra Credit)

“Do you ever wonder how many of these stars have worlds like ours encircling them?” G’raha said softly, his red eyes gazing up at the night sky. Zinnia’s eyes followed his gaze, but only after a furtive glance at the Miqo’te man himself. There was so much she wanted to ask him, but it felt so often that their time was running out and her own words were lost to her in the chaos of their work.

“I do,” she admitted, pulling her knees to her chest where she sat beside him. “I can’t help but wonder if the other Shards have as many stars in their skies, too.”

G’raha chuckled at that, the sound of his voice gentle on her ears.

“I suppose I’ll have to find out and tell you,” he said simply, his eyes still fixed on the sky. There it was again -- the unspoken pain of parting, not knowing if or when or how they could meet again.

Zinnia sighed, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. It never got any easier, whether or not she knew someone was going to be lost to her.

“It’s going to be alright, Zin,” he soothed, his red eyes finally upon her as he rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I know, Raha. It’s just…” She shook her head, blinking away the tears that had begun to form unbidden. She still didn’t know what to say. “You will be okay, won’t you?”

“I will. I swear it.”

The solemnity in his voice managed to elicit a giggle from her, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“What’s so funny?” he pouted, though there was still a smile in his eyes.

“Nothing, I just love hearing you talk like you’re a hero in a fairy tale or something,” she managed to tell him.

His ears twitched at that and he glanced away from her as if it would somehow help him hide the blush that had risen to his cheeks.

“Well, it’s not like it’s my fault that I learned from the best!”

Zinnia laughed, giving his shoulder a playful shove. She knew he meant her grandpapa; he always did.

What she wouldn’t give for more moments like these…


	7. Day 7: Nonagenarian

Ophelia carried the cake into the dining room from the kitchen, Zinnia hot on her heels. The girl was quite nearly a young woman now, but she couldn’t contain her excitement whenever she got a chance to help make things for her loved ones.

Tacitus sat at the table, his thick glasses on a chain around his neck. Rah gently squeezed his hand to get his attention before Ophelia placed the cake in front of the aging Garlean.

“Happy 90th nameday!” the Elezen woman announced, and the others gathered in the room quickly chorused the sentiment.

Tacitus smiled warmly; the kindnesses bestowed upon him by Rah which had once been strange and new had now become familiar to the retired doctor, and he cherished every moment he had with each of his family members -- his husband, their children, and their grandchildren among them.

“Zinnia helped me bake the cake, Pops,” Ophelia said, receiving the cutting knife from her brother Ahnu with a roll of her eyes as he handed it to her the wrong way yet again.

“Mom and I picked the rolanberries ourselves!” Zinnia chimed in. Sateli nodded and gave Tacitus a small pat on the arm in acknowledgement.

“It smells wonderful,” Tacitus said, his mouth watering as he sniffed the air. “Shall we dig in?”

Ophelia chuckled at that, picking up a plate from the stack on the table.

“At least let me slice the cake first!”


	8. Day 8: Clamor

Zinnia had often clamored for her older brother’s attention. Ever since they were children, she had admired his intelligence and the fiery passion which drove him to learn and succeed at what he did. Their interests may have differed, but their quick minds were alike in more ways than one, and not just because of their shared blood.

Updating him on her group’s findings about the Crystal Tower always had a different sort of excitement to it than she felt with others. His inquisitive mind tended to lead him to ask her questions that she wouldn’t have otherwise considered, and she appreciated it immensely.

There was a twinkle in his eye when she told him about G’raha. There always was. And after the Seeker of the Sun had departed on his mission, her brother seemed to be the only one who didn’t disapprove of Zinnia’s wish to follow him.

“We don’t know the exact consequences of meddling with any timeline,” she explained to him over a cup of tea. “If he succeeds then everything here as we know it could be altered, or it could not. We just… don’t know, and the not knowing is what’s killing me.”

Her brother sipped at his own cup of tea thoughtfully before he spoke.

“If you want to know, do you intend to follow him?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. He already knew what her answer would be.

“I do, but…”

“The others disapprove?”

Zinnia nodded, and her brother set down her teacup with a chuckle. She was about to object to his laughter, but he interrupted her there.

“And when has that ever stopped you?” He grinned at her as she sat across from him with her mouth hanging open. “I know that if anyone’s capable of flinging themself back in time, even without the approval of a team of engineers, it’s you, Zin. So what are you waiting for?”


	9. Day 9: Lush

Zinnia peered down into the patch of lush vegetation. Equipped with a scythe custom-made for her smaller frame, the Miqo’te girl felt no small sense of pride in the fact that she had been allowed to accompany her grandpapa on his gathering expedition.

_ “I want you to stick to cow bitter -- the plants with the yellow flowers,” _ Seoc had told her, holding out a sample of the plant for her to inspect. She had nodded enthusiastically, her tail bouncing in excitement.

The cow bitter had been easy enough to spot for the most part, the small, bright yellow flowers clustered together in happy little patches. They smelled sweet, and she hummed to herself as she gathered them up. The more she worked, though, the more distracted she found herself becoming. There was something just a little too intriguing about another one of the plants -- one with blue-violet flowers and even more pronounced green leaves.

_ A little sniff couldn’t hurt, could it?  _ But with her face closer to the plant, she felt the indescribable urge to bury her nose in its leaves.

She found herself on the ground within a few moments, clutching a handful of the leaves to her face. Something had grabbed hold of her mind and refused to let go, but she couldn’t say the sensation was unpleasant in the slightest.

“Zin? Zinnia!” she heard Seoc call out in a panic as he rushed to her side. He knelt beside her, his pale brow knitted in concern. She merely giggled in response, holding out the leaves to her grandpapa. When he recognized the plant as gaelicatnip, he sighed a little in relief, though he shook his head nonetheless. “I thought I told you to stick to the cow bitter,” he said softly, scooping his granddaughter up into his arms. “Though I suppose now we know you inherited this…  _ predisposition _ as well…”


	10. Day 10: Avail

Zinnia had paced around the aetheryte plaza of Revenant’s Toll for longer than she cared to remember. More than anything else, she wished to speak with Seoc and G’raha, but the fact that they would not recognize her -- or possibly even believe her outlandish tale -- kept her pacing.

If she revealed her true identity now, how could it alter this time’s future? She couldn’t just tell them who her parents and grandparents were, for it could influence their decisions and possibly result in her never being born to begin with.

She wracked her brain ceaselessly, hoping that an answer would eventually come to her. The guards around the aetheryte were giving her strange looks, but she was too focused on her dilemma to give them much thought.

_ Perhaps an alias? _ But she didn’t particularly want to lie to her loved ones. She had thought she was prepared for any eventuality, but somehow she had missed this key issue.

The more she thought about it, the more complicated her mind made things. Worrying about it overmuch would not avail her; she would have to improvise, and hope for the best.


	11. Day 11: Ultracrepidarian

Zinnia sat across from G’raha at the makeshift table. She took a bite from her sandwich every now and then, chewing contemplatively as she listened to the other Miqo’te speak.

“There are a great number of people like that in Sharlayan -- armchair academics and the like. Or at least there were. Before all this…” G’raha sighed, picking at the food on his plate.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want,” she said, setting down her sandwich. He shook his head, pushing his plate a little bit away from him so it wouldn’t distract him further.

“It’s not that,” he said slowly, his forehead creasing as he searched for the right words. “I don’t want to forget them. They deserve better than that. I learned so much in Sharlayan -- about Allag, about myself… It may not have been the destination of my journey, but they made me feel like I could improve myself and the world if I just tried hard enough. It meant a lot to me. It still does.” His lips curved downward into a frown. “I just don’t know how to feel about them keeping to themselves, and trying to seal their knowledge away to the detriment of others. They may have taken me in when I was at my lowest, but I can’t help but wonder if anything would have turned out differently if they’d tried to help the rest of the world. Would we still have lost…  _ them?” _

“Raha…” Zinnia reached across the table, firmly resting her hand on top of his. Had it been anyone else, he may have jerked away and averted his gaze, but with her he felt compelled to meet her eyes. “Worrying about it now won’t change anything. We are each responsible only for our own selves, and it is for our own selves that we must forge ever onward.”

He smiled somewhat sadly at that, turning his hand over to grip hers back.

“There is so much of him in you,” he murmured with another shake of his head. “But you are right. We are but ourselves, for good or ill.”

“I’d like to think it’s more of the former,” she said, the slightest flicker of amusement in her voice. “But now is not the time to fret over it.” She gave his hand a small squeeze. “We should at least finish dinner first.”


	12. Day 12: Tooth and Nail

Only a fool would think it wise to cross Sateli Totoloc, daughter of Ishgard’s Emerald Dragoon. The Miqofell woman had a ferocity to her that couldn’t merely be explained away by her relation to Geist Sturmlanze, and when it came to defending what she held dear that ferocity only intensified.

Ishgard had been willing to turn a blind eye to the void-taint carried by the woman and her kin, at least so long as she fought  _ for _ rather than  _ against _ them.

Still, the voidsent hunters never seemed to learn their lesson. They came for her brother and her children more often than not; even outsiders seemed to realize that she and her old man could more than fend for themselves.

A man with a sloppy hold on his sword and shield stood over Zinnia, the young Miqo’te whimpering with her back to a wall in the Brume.

“You can’t fool me with your tricks, monster!” the man shouted, the sound of his voice making icicles fall and shatter against the stone pathway.

“H-help!” the girl wailed loudly, startling her attacker. The man threatened to smash his shield down on her head, but a mighty roar came from above and drew his attention from his prey.

“With me, Tharos!” Sateli cried, her blue hair streaming behind her as she leapt from the back of a red dragon. She drew her spear in a fluid motion and dove down upon the man with the precision of a swooping hawk. Her dragon companion followed her to the ground, making a snap at the man’s legs with his teeth.

The voidsent hunter held up his shield in an attempt to brace against their combined assault, but Sateli’s strike was strong and true. Her spear pierced the shield as though it were nothing more than a board of rotting wood and she hooked it out of the man’s hand, tossing it to the side.

“M-monsters!” the man shrieked, flailing out at the dragoon with his sword. Tharos sank his teeth into the man’s leg, snapping it with a sickening  _ crunch _ before dragging him down across the stone away from Zinnia. Sateli easily knocked the sword from his hand, leaving it to spin away into a bank of snow. The man howled in both pain and fear, even as Sateli pointed the tip of her spear toward the hollow of his throat.

“Call me what you will,” she snarled, “but your kind should know better than to name my daughter a monster.”

Ending the hunter’s life before he could beg for it, Sateli kicked his body over so that his face was turned to the ground. Tharos was already at Zinnia’s side, leaning his body down so that the girl could wrap her arms around his neck in a hug as she sobbed.

“There, there, little one,” he intoned, reaching to wrap one wing around her. His deep jet eyes met Sateli’s pale green ones, and the woman swung her spear to stow it on her back before crossing the bloodstained path to reach her daughter’s side.

“Did he hurt you, Zin?” Sateli asked, concern creasing her forehead. Zinnia sniffled, doing her best to put on a brave face as she slowly pulled away from Tharos.

“M-mostly he just knocked me around a bit,” she stammered. “If you hadn’t come, though…”

Sateli frowned a little before placing her hand on her daughter’s head, smoothing her dark blue hair as she examined the scratches on her small face.

“Of course I came, Zin,” she soothed, kissing the top of Zinnia’s head as the girl wrapped her arms around her mom and held on for dear life. “Me and Tharos, your dad and mama -- we’re all always going to fight tooth and nail, fang and claw to protect you and your brother.” She squeezed Zinnia gently, rubbing the girl’s back as she did. Tharos nodded, purring softly as he bumped his nose against Zinnia’s shoulder.

The three of them stayed there for what felt like an age, Sateli and Tharos waiting for Zinnia’s breathing to stabilize enough for her to stop sniffling.

“Let’s go home,” Sateli finally said, to which Zinnia and Tharos were all too happy to agree.


	13. Day 13: Dragon (Extra Credit)

Tharos belonged to Ratatoskr’s brood, his deep red scales matching those of so many of his kin.

Sateli was still a young dragoon when she first met the dragon, and he in turn was not yet full grown.

She had freed him from a trap set by an overeager hunter, and while he smelled blood upon her, it was not the blood of dragons. She called upon her father-in-law to tend to his wounds with magic, and again there was not a hint of dragon blood staining that Miqo’te’s aether. 

He learned from his cousin Gullinbursti that the dragoon was the daughter of a man who had helped rebuild Bahrr Lehs. His curiosity piqued, he resolved to meet Sateli again.

They became fast friends, their interest in their peoples’ shared history and future keeping them at one another’s side.

When Sateli had her children, Tharos instantly swore himself to their protection. He had not sired any dragonets of his own, but Sateli and her family were so dear to his heart that he became as an uncle to Zinnia and her older brother.


	14. Day 14: Part

Where was the sweetness in the sorrow of parting?

Was it in the smile he flashed her before entering the tower? Or in the knowledge that the next time they met, they would be different versions of themselves, if they were to meet again at all?

_ “Dry your eyes, Zin,” _ he had told her, placing his hand on her shoulder.  _ “We’re going to save the world. We’re going to save  _ **_them.”_ **

And of course, it was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? Why she had even dared to join the team trying to re-open the Crystal Tower. There had been everything to gain, nothing to lose, and yet…

Why did he have to be so damn noble? Why was she the one who had to be left behind? The words she wanted to say were lost to her, always darting away from the tip of her tongue.

This world, the one they had shared and struggled for together, could be washed clean from the slate of time in an instant as soon as the tower vanished, and G’raha along with it.

But the world did not waver and vanish when he left. The hole in the skyline made by the Crystal Tower’s absence was the only physical sign that anything had changed. Their team had accomplished their current mission. G’raha had been sent back and away with the tower, even if they had no confirmation as to if or where he landed.

Were their timelines and worlds irrevocably split now? Was there no way for him to come home?

_ With everything to win, the only thing I lose is you. _


	15. Day 15: Ache

_“Time heals all wounds.”_ Zinnia’s parents had never lowered themselves to utter these words to her. Not when they knew they were false. They didn’t often speak of her Uncle Zazel’s _accident;_ the trauma of it had been too much for them all -- but when she looked in her dad’s eyes she could see the ghost of his guilt gripping at him, refusing to let go.

When her grandpapa passed, Zinnia met heartbreak face-to-face. It wasn’t just in Seoc’s absence -- it was in the way her entire family had to navigate the space he left behind.

Even her tinkering, which had always brought her comfort in her loneliest moments, was tinged with loss. She refused to let the painful gnawing in her chest stop her from inventing, though, knowing that if she were to put down her saw and hammer she may not have the heart to pick them back up again.

Years passed, people came and went, and the world spiralled ever further out of control. Black Rose had taken so much from so many. How could she not want to find a way to _give?_

She hardly needed an introduction when she joined the team working at the base of the Crystal Tower. They knew her family well, and would come to find that even without their shared blood she could stand on her own two feet.

When they finally got the door to the tower open, Zinnia had thought she was prepared for anything.

What she hadn’t planned for was just how well G’raha knew Seoc. 

It hurt at first. It hurt both of them. Knowing that Seoc was gone, and knowing the dystopian world that had taken him from them.

Burying the pain was worse than embracing it, though, so they resolved to face it together. And every now and then, when they pulled one another out of the pit of despair, the ache would fade, even if just for a moment.

And wasn’t that worth it?


	16. Day 16: Lucubration

Their triumph was years in the making. Every drop of blood and sweat spent on opening the Crystal Tower, on building the Tycoon, on carrying out their plans, was deliberately shed for the sake of a brighter tomorrow. Every step they took was premeditated; they only had one chance to get it right, after all.

Biggs did not approve of Zinnia’s aspirations to follow G’raha; hells, the only one who had granted her their blessing was her older brother, and he wasn’t even on the team. And while it was with Midgardsormr’s aid that the Ironworks continued to work for a better tomorrow, she couldn’t get the thought out of her head that it could be possible to rejoin the timelines, or at the very least communicate across them.

It may have taken her time to get the specifications just right, but her curiosity and longing drove her ever onward. In the back of her mind, she knew she was being watched, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care about that. Not when she was ever on the brink of a new breakthrough.

When the time came to put her work to the test, it was Midgardsormr himself who appeared before her. She had tried to prepare herself for the guilt of leaving Biggs and the others, but she should have known it was the great wyrm who had been keeping an eye on her.

“This world’s future could use a mind like yours, daughter of man,” he intoned. But she would not allow herself to be cowed by anyone’s doubts, not now.

“I know this, yet I still feel compelled to try this approach.”

Midgardsormr gazed at her, unblinking.

“I could stop you,” he said, “but the force required would be wasteful.” Of his energy or her talents, he did not say.

“I have thought long and hard on this course of action. To be swayed now would be to forsake myself.” She clenched her fists, staring up at the great wyrm.

A heavy sound tolled from the back of his throat, and she recognized it as a sigh.

“Go, then, daughter of man. But do not forget this world, nor the people here you are leaving behind.”

She nodded once, pulling her goggles down over her eyes.

“I will remember everything.”


	17. Day 17: Fade

The writing in the journal was faded, the pages worn from being flipped through gods knew how many times since the words had been penned. Zinnia clutched the journal to her chest, humming softly as she walked through the crystal-lit halls of the tower.

She had never met Edmont de Fortemps, but the tale inscribed in the tome she held told of the heroes who had once saved Ishgard -- among which stood two of her grandfathers. One a hardened war veteran, the other a cunning engineer, they had both played their parts in bringing the Dragonsong War to its end.

If only peace were less fleeting, or fate less fickle…

She found G’raha working by lamplight, his crimson eyes flickering between the pages of the books spread out before him. She sat down across from him, setting down Edmont’s journal on the table with a precise  _ thump. _

“Ah, Zinnia!” He cleared his throat a little as he greeted her, his voice somewhat dry from not having spoken to another person for a bit too long. His books had kept him company well enough, or at least had garnered his full attention until now. He eyed the tome which she had placed in front of him, curiosity causing him to raise a singular brow. “Heavensward?”

“I can’t help re-reading it… You know that.”

“Nor can I blame you,” he admitted with a small chuckle. “Those gallant heroes, blinding in their brilliance, bringing an end to a seemingly endless war… It’s the kind of story you’d expect from a fairy tale.”

“And yet it’s all true,” she murmured, gently caressing the lettering on the cover of the tome. “It would be almost difficult to believe, had I not known them myself…”

“Even if it were all a flight of fancy, would it be any less inspiring? Fairy tales do have their own kind of value, hidden in the shadows of exaggeration.”

She giggled at that and he pouted at her from across the table.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, the very tip of his tail swishing behind him. 

“There’s just something so boyish about your fascination with these kinds of stories.” She grinned at him, flashing her Keeper fangs as she did so.

“Hold on, I’m older than you!” he sputtered, drawing even more laughter from her.

“Only on a technicality!”

G’raha leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff. While it was true that he had been born far earlier chronologically, the fact of the matter was that Zinnia had not spent any of her life experience frozen in time.

“Not that anyone would know it, were they to see us now,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth lifting upward into an amused smile. Sometimes he felt old despite his time alone in the Crystal Tower, but from the way the other members of the team looked at the two of them he knew they both seemed as kittens once again. There was something nice about it -- something refreshing and bright that managed to peek through the darkness of their world that had gone so wrong.

He couldn’t help but cherish these moments -- the ones that shone as stars against the blackness of the night sky.


	18. Day 18: Panglossian

Part of her was still the optimist of her youth, a grinning child clinging to her grandpapa’s tail while he worked. He told her all he knew of Allag, of the heir to the forgotten civilization and the struggles they endured together. Of the voidgate they had traveled through, uncertain as ever that they would be able to make it home.

But Zinnia believed in heroes because of what she saw before her. She believed in the harmony of light and shadow, and when her best friend in all the world left on a mission that would potentially part them forever, she continued to believe that they would meet again.

Sitting on a bench in Mor Dhona, the Miqo’te woman fretted over what she could say to Seoc and G’raha. Over if she should say anything at all.

But they had promised her that all would be well, hadn’t they? She recalled Seoc’s telling of his first encounter with Unei and Doga; to lie or even bluff would do her no favors.

Finally resolving to get their next-first meeting out of the way, she dusted herself off and rose from her seat, striding across the aetheryte plaza to take the path back toward Saint Coinach’s Find. She had her wits and strength about her enough to not need to borrow a chocobo again.

The air was thick with fog and aether both when she arrived at the encampment, but the glow of the crystals jutting out of the earth made it easier to see. A Roegadyn man with his head marked with the tattoo of an Archon stood surveying over all, and Zinnia did not escape his notice.

“Another adventurer, are you?” he asked, looking her up and down.

“N-not exactly,” she stammered, her mind instantly calling up the image of her dad sharpening his axe, a goofy smile on his face. “But I have come looking for work.”

“I can direct you to K’leytai if you wish to undertake some levequests,” he said, making to lead her across the camp.

“I was actually more interested in working with the Sons,” she told him, fussing with her goggles. He peered down at her curiously.

“What was your name?”

“Zinnia.”

“Hm… Alright, Zinnia. I’m Rammbroes. We’ll have to screen you first, but then we’ll see how you can help out around here...”


	19. Day 19: Where the Heart Is

“And what about you?” G’raha asked, a wistful look in his red eyes.

“Hm?” Zinnia blinked back at him slowly. She had been so wrapped up in his story that she had lost herself along the way.

“In all of time and space, if you could go anywhere, where would you choose?”

“I…” She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not sure of an answer to that, not off the top of my head.”

G’raha chuckled, his voice melodic as ever. She closed one eye as she looked at him, more than ready to ask him what was so funny.

“Take as much time as you need to think on it, then,” he said. “I can wait for your answer.”

~~~

Zinnia sat atop a large sheet of scrap metal that had once been a piece of an airship’s siding, her arms around her knees. She looked out over the lake, her green eyes scanning the horizon where the Crystal Tower had once stood. The stars of the night sky were obscured by fog and tainted aether, but she knew where each of them hung nonetheless.

The gap left by the tower’s absence made her sigh. 

_ Where would I want to go? _

_ Who would I want to see? _

It seemed clear now, and she felt foolish for not seeing it sooner. She wanted to know what the world was, and what it could be. But more than that, she didn’t want to find out all on her own.

She pulled her goggles down over her eyes, sniffling as she fixed her gaze on the horizon once more.

_ Are you still waiting for my answer? _ she wondered, hugging her knees more tightly.  _ Because I would want to go home. _

_ And where is home, if not where my heart is? _


	20. Day 20: On Our Fates Alight (Extra Credit)

Where can a heart sing   
if not upon the wind,  
its wings spread wide enough   
to offer shade to the world?

There is so much of the sky in you,   
the endless breeze a gift   
wrapped in your smile.

How could I not smile back?   
Who else could I love but you?


End file.
